Visions of Unreality
by Amledo
Summary: Tidus was a memory, a dream, and slowly, Yuna begins to feel like one herself.


(A/N: I've never written a FFX fic but I think I like how this one turned out. It was an experiment with open prose, where you can't tell who the speaker is, and frankly I'm not sure who is talking to whom, but I think it worked. This is meant to be Tidus/Yuna but like I said you can't tell which one is talking to the other. Okay enough of that. I don't own any of the Final Fantasy series and I never will. On with the show!)

Visions of Unreality

It feels like we've kissed a million times, but our lips have never met, so they tell me, I have never known the taste of your lips. We have held hands, our fingers entwined, solidarity and comfort in our grasp, in each other, but I have never touched you, nor felt the warmth of your flesh. How clearly I remember making love to you, but those sounds of satisfaction could never have been uttered from a voice that never spoke. And after I buried my face in your hair, reveling in the feel of you, though I know I have never smelt your skin. I am told that I cannot love what I have not seen, what I have never known. But…

Still the memories linger in my mind, twisting through the vast emptiness of loss. Though I know that they are a lie, that they never were and exist only as a ghastly little fiction, I cling to them. For so long you've had my heart, though I didn't know you for long. But if you don't truly exist why do you not relax your grasp on my soul?

I was dreaming awake to be next to you. The thought of you is false, an illusion, yet it comforts me so, keeps me going. I see all the pain that our separation has caused as if from the outside. Sometimes I imagine that I can see a spiteful being, hooded and cloaked, tiny dagger in hand, cutting me away from you, slicing at our bond. So I hold on more desperately, clinging tightly and screaming a protest. I desperately try to reason with the ones that would let you go, and they do not listen.

They think it better for me if I let the memory of you fade and fall into nothing. But how can they say such things? How can they know what is good for me if I am the one that loved? You are real enough for me, the memory of you proves it, and that is all that I need to keep holding on. Still they tell me to forget.

How long has it been now since we parted? Still they pull and cut, tearing and shoving, my soul bleeds; they will not remove you from me. I have not known you for long but you will not let me go. You know I can't be alone with them so you stay close, and mere figment that you are, you defend me, though our stubbornness might just kill us both.

Yes, love, I would rather die than be their 'normal'. You hold me close and kiss my lips, insist to me that they cannot have what I won't give, but my heart bleeds. Slowly you somehow become more distant, less real and more an illusion, I choke on denials as my world spins. Losing my grip I desperately claw at the air trying to get back to you and I'm falling through the sky, looking at you as clouds pass, I wonder, who is truly alone?

As I plummet I twist to face the vast ocean beneath me, so like where we first met, and I swear I can see you weeping on a distant shore. The pain is intense, deep within my person and I plunge through the water like a stone. Strangely I can see the sky and the sun as I drown though I cannot remember turning my body around. For a brief instant our eyes meet and I'm falling again. The wind rushes past me and I feel myself bleeding, hemorrhaging you as I rise. Reaching out for stability I catch your hand, but just for a brief instant. You smile so sadly and let me go, you let me keep falling.

Somehow, as I continue to fall, never once changing direction, with the clouds like ice surrounding me, I realize, I'm the one who isn't real. Slowly the ghost of you turns away; weeping and I fall back once last time, not even knowing that I had been standing a moment before. My hands begin to fade as they flail above me; it seems all along I was the one being cut from you. All I see is your smile, illusions, I vanish as I descend, almost glad to be gone at last. I won't hurt you any more; you cannot mourn someone who was never real.

You were my lovely lie, the drug that allowed me to survive, a reviving draught. But I watched you fall, watched as the world dragged you down, cast you through sea and sky pulling you relentlessly away. Were I still me I never would have let you go.

They changed me, knife through my mind they cut you down, and I wept as you perished each thought removed so violently. You faded slowly, going out like an ember scattered from the fire, you were gone before you struck bottom. You, beautiful lie were all that saved me from reality; I needed you so badly, was it so wrong to believe you were real? You were my crutch.

Yet they haven't taken all of you from me, I can remember your face, foggy in my dreams. But no matter it will be clear again, I'm falling for you specter of imagination. The sky sure is bright tonight, stars ablaze, moon full and pure, it's a lovely sight as I topple backward. A smile graces that beautiful imaginary face, and we know, neither of us have to die alone. So far we fell and only saw each other; we met up half way and continued on together. It doesn't pain me to leave them behind, you are here, and you are mine and I am yours.

My, your breathing, beautiful, tangible vision of unreality.

(A/N: Constructive criticism? Reviews? Tell me what you thought!)


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